LIFE STORY OF A FAMOUS LONDON RESTAURATEUR.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XVI, Issue 925, 28 November 1907, Page 21

LIFE STORY OF A FAMOUS LONDON RESTAURATEUR.

Forty-ifive years ago Oscar Philippe was seiv’ng a a waiter at the Cavour Restaurant, Leicester Square, London. When he died recently he was the proprietor of the place. M. Phi ippe came from Midi to London to learn English and waiting. He found employment at the Hotel Cavour, then a very different place to what it is now. It was a tumbledown hostelry with a small restaurant, and Philippe was the only waiter. , - . When his employers died Philippe had saved enough to buy the business, and presently the young Frenchman acquired a hall at the rear, in which a sort of judge and jury show had been given, and turned it into the restaurant, transforming the original restaurant nto a bar. The place attained no great favour until a well-known journalist (now deceased) quarrelled with ths late Romano, of the. Strand. He vowed that he would take all the Roman’s supper customers away, and he kept his word, booming the Cavour with such persistency that the public deserted the Romano’s fftr the Cavour. Later on the fame of the fare provided penetrated amusement land, and for years now the luncheons at the restaurant in Leicester Square have been patronised by managers, actors, actresses, musichall agents, and artists. Among those who visited the establishment were Sir Charles Wyndham. Mr. Arthur Collins, Mr. George Edwardes, Mr. J. M. Barrie, Mr. Fred Terry, Mr Oscar Asche, Mr. Gerald Du Maurier. Mr. Frank Curzon, Mr. Fred Mouillot, a host of journalists, arid a great crowd of young actresses notable for their beauty. Four years ago M. Phillipe declined an offer of for the site of his restaurant. FRUIT TREES IN LEICESTER SQUARE. Philippe struck casual visitors as being somewhat brusque in his manner: He loathed teetotallers, and plainly told them so. He would sometimes say bluntly to the customer who paid a fixed price of a few shillings for his dinner, and drink no wine, that he would gladly have paid his sixpence to go and dine elsewhere. He franklv admitted that his profits lay in the wines, and declared that most of the d’shes were served at cost price or under. A very aggressive customer once grumb’ed fiercely at some mutton that did not plea=e him. The next day he came again to d’ne. But the waiters persistently ignord him. At last, furious, he called M. Phi'ippe. In icy tones the proprietor hissed, “You do not like my mutton ; you may go somewhere else.” Although M. Philippe had beeni 1 ! for ••■ome weeks his death was not expected, though he was sixty-four. In August he was tending his wonderful garden behind the restaurant. In that unexpected garden, shut in by houses on every side,

grow standard fruit trees, and on the harsh walls are climbing figs, while bright flowers and turf, assiduously tended, make the place a tiny oasis.

M. Philippe died a rich man, and though outwardly so brusque and independent he was very charitable. He was unmarried.